A Halloween Party
by Mooset
Summary: This is a brief story about a Halloween party. Totally AU. Rating for some lewdness. Dramione for the most part.


DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER! This is just meant to be for fun. (i also don't own btvs)

Draco was not amused.

Draco was actually hovering somewhere between miffed and livid. If there was anything he hated, it was having _**anything**_ in his naturally beautiful, silky, gorgeous, wonderful hair. But he loved his wife and knew that she had picked this costume for a reason. He didn't look bad. In fact, if he was honest with himself, he looked good. He should have tried this punk look a long time ago. He knew he looked good in tight clothes but the skintight leather pants and "Crass" t-shirt, _whoever they were,_ made him look and feel like a Pretty Punk Sex God. He had the "I could give a shit" attitude down, but lacked the fury punks seemed to have in regards to the establishment or The Man. But he really couldn't sign on to their crazy hair styles. Maybe it was because they didn't care about what their hair looked like and he most certainly did.

This Spike guy from some bloody Muggle show certainly didn't care about his hair. The sheer amount of product Draco had used to spike his hair made him feel like crying. He could almost feel his hair getting drier with every passing second, and not in the sense of the product itself drying. But the spikes were part of the costume, apparently. Hermione had insisted. Thinking of his lovely wife, Draco couldn't help but huff in annoyance. Hermione wouldn't let him see **her** costume until it was exactly time to leave. Which, hopefully, was any minute, as they were in danger of being late.

"Hermione, we're going to be late for the party!" Draco shouted up the stairs. What he saw walking down them made his heart skip a beat. There stood his Hermione, wearing the tightest outfit she'd probably ever worn. Leather pants and a matching corset that were so tight, he was curious as to how she was breathing. He'd been staring at her chest and decided it was time to look up. She had spelled her hair red. He wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to be, but she looked good. Then Hermione smiled and showed off her incisors which she had magically sharpened and elongated. It was too bad that they had to go to Potter's bloody Halloween party. He'd really rather take her back upstairs and help her out of those leather pants.

"You're staring" Hermione whispered, her blush clashing with her fantastically red hair. It would seem she wasn't quite in character yet, as vampires do not blush.

"Well so are you" Draco said, winking at her. Draco took her hand and apparated them to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Harry had a thing for Halloween. Draco wasn't sure why, but he imagined the trauma from his first year at Hogwarts had something to do with it. Replacing bad memories with good, perhaps. Except that Potter provided so much alcohol for his party that most guests often forgot most of what happened at the party. Perhaps that was the point. Draco was glad for this overstocking of alcohol. When Draco and Hermione arrived, they saw that his godfather, the respectable and serious Severus Snape, had dressed as the Muggle "musician" Prince. The debatable humor of pun costumes aside, Draco was glad to be surrounded by liquid that would erase the shocking image of the questionably tan buttocks he saw through Severus' bright yellow lace jumpsuit from his brain. Hermione seemed to be having a better time of handling the sight of the man's bottom as she instantly greeted him and engaged him in a discussion of his work at the Ministry.

Really, how could Severus even maintain eye contact when Hermione was standing there, breasts fighting their way out of her corset with every breath. Draco peeked down at the older man's crotch and blanched. Gods, Severus Snape, supposed Sex God, did not have a boner. Ignoring how odd it was to be checking to see if his wife gave his godfather a stiffy, Draco came to the conclusion that Severs must be playing for the home team. That was when Potter popped up behind Draco and tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a rather lewd lollipop.

"You're not checking out my guy, are you Draco? If you weren't married to Hermione I'd think you just might be interested in some taboo sort of liason" Potter whispered.

"What are you smoking Potter? I've always liked women." Draco said and turned to stare at Potter, who was wearing what looked to be women's lingerie, and in Draco's opinion, too much red lipstick.

"Oi! 'Arry! Lookit whut Luna's gotten up to wif Ginnerrrva" Ron slurred from across the room, his arm outstretched and pointing at the aforementioned girls making out on the couch.

"Ron, mate, that's your sister" Neville whispered as he stood there, blushing. Neville should have come as "the picture of innocence and virginity", but had opted to be some kind of yodeling Germanic person. Draco came to the conclusion it was time to go.

"Hermione we're leaving. This is bound to turn into a drunken orgy with horrible consequences." Draco said, stomping over to his wife. She had been sipping a glass of cider and watching Molly and Arthur bob for apples. She turned and looked at him with a grin.

"The cheese will not protect you." she whispered.

Draco jerked awake and snorted. He really had to stop watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer before bed.

A/N: Hi! So I found this gem while sifting through all the fanfic that I had kicking around on my hard drive. Sooo yeah. I spruced this one up a bit and decided to pop it up here for your reading pleasure. Or displeasure. Either one.


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